


Red is Your Color

by Papy_1412



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Bottom Akechi Goro, Canon Compliant, Clothed Sex, Come Eating, Condoms, Dirty Talk, Facials, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Mutual Pining, Persona 5: The Royal Spoilers, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Semi-Public Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-14
Updated: 2021-03-14
Packaged: 2021-03-21 20:27:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,036
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30027378
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Papy_1412/pseuds/Papy_1412
Summary: “I’m just curious. Makoto gave school tracksuits to Futaba and Yusuke. And I was wondering how you got yours.”Akira loves the sight of Akechi wearing Shujin's red tracksuit. Or just Akechi wearing red, in general. Or just Akechi, period. Fuck.
Relationships: Akechi Goro/Kurusu Akira, Akechi Goro/Persona 5 Protagonist
Comments: 10
Kudos: 115





	Red is Your Color

“I shall continue to watch over you, Trickster. Please show me the path that you choose for humanity…”

Lavenza turned into a butterfly once again and flew slowly towards the door. Akira was watching her when he caught sight of something else. His eyes drifted along Akechi’s shoulders and then lower. His jacket wasn’t zipped all the way up and his sleeves seemed to be a little bit too short, stopping just above his wrists and exposing his ungloved hands.

That shouldn’t have been too surprising – Akechi wasn’t a student here so he probably just borrowed the first tracksuit he found so he could get inside the building. But the more Akira looked, the more suspicious it was. That’s why, while everyone was walking in the direction of the door, he let his hand briefly touch Akechi’s shoulder. “Hey, you have a minute?”

The older boy raised an eyebrow, briefly lowering his eyelashes to follow the hand that had dared to touch him. “Depends,” he muttered.

“It won’t be long. I just need to get you back into the groupchat, and you have to be there for that.”

Clearly, that didn’t convince him. “I didn’t have to the first time.”

“The groupchat you got into the first time wasn’t the real one, duh. Futaba installed some security around it, so no one could hack it. Right?”

Futaba wasn’t really listening, using her too long sleeves to lightly slap Yusuke’s arm who clearly didn’t seem to care. She just nodded, vaguely sending him a curious look, and then she followed the rest of the group outside. The last one to leave was Ryuji who was mumbling something about how technology was way too complicated, and then only the two of them remained.

Akechi got his phone out with a sigh and Akira quickly got to work. Obviously, though, he hadn’t been as sly as he thought. “What do you really want?” Akechi asked with a low voice, clearly a little bit annoyed already. When Akira feigned ignorance, just sending him a look over his phone and pretending he didn’t already finish his “task”, the detective rolled his eyes. “You don’t need to be alone with me for something like that, we could’ve done it on our way out. What is it? You’re having second thoughts?”

He wasn’t used to Akechi staring at him like that, with an obvious air of suspicion. It was so different from his forced smiles and other sarcastic laughs. Still, he didn’t try to deny anything and decided to be upfront, finally lowering his phone and slipping it back into his pocket. “I’m just curious. Makoto gave school tracksuits to Futaba and Yusuke. And I was wondering how you got yours.”

That seemed to really take him by surprise, considering the way his eyelids fluttered in astonishment. His face contorted in some kind of irritated scowl and he snarled : “Are you serious? That’s it?”

“I’m very serious.”

“I honestly can’t see why – don’t you have better things to worry about right now? Why do you even care?”

Akira couldn’t help the little grin that started pulling at the corner of his lips. Akechi was usually a very good liar, but right now, it seemed that he was too embarrassed to realize his reaction gave him away. There was nothing more suspicious than immediately turning the question around to avoid answering it.

“Well you see, I think it does concern me. Because now, I kinda remember losing a pair a while ago. Specifically because it was in the schoolbag the police kept when they arrested me, the one they obviously never gave back. After all, I was pretty dead, you remember that part?”

“Alright smartass,” he sighed, still looking pissed. “Get to the point.”

“You’re the detective, I’m sure you perfectly understood my point.”

Silence fell between them and if glares would kill, Akechi might’ve been the first person to murder someone twice. He crossed his arms and narrowed his eyes, completely closing himself off. He wasn’t sure, but it looked like he was actually weighing his options, carefully watching Akira and deciding which answer would get him out of this trap. Finally, he seemed to reach a conclusion : “Alright. And now what?”

Akira blinked. Oh. So he was admitting it. Akechi kept going : “If those clothes are indeed yours, I still have no idea what you’re getting at. What do you want to do about that, exactly? Do you want them back? Do you want me to remove them right now?”

That last sentence shook him up deep in his core. He finally dared holding Akechi’s stare, as if he wanted to test who would give up first. However, he thought as his breath got a little bit deeper and his palms sweatier, he wasn’t there to play chicken. He only wanted one thing since he’d realized Akechi was wearing  _ his _ clothes, that he stole and kept with him even after his “death”. And he clearly wasn’t going to run away from it.

Akira lightly shrugged, taking a step in the detective’s direction. He smirked as excitement made his stomach clench, and shakily said : “What a great idea.”

The next moment, a wide-eyed Akechi was pushed against the infirmary wall and getting kissed, deeply. He didn’t move for a second, too shocked to even react while Akira got a grip on the red track suit and caught him by the collar, bruising lips colliding with his.

Still, he finally decided to push Akira’s face away from his, though he didn’t make him release his grip on his clothes. “What the fuck are you– ah!” he tried to ask, his angry tone turning into a moan when Akira lowered his head a little bit to kiss his jaw and the line of his exposed neck.

“You’re asking a lot of stupid questions,” he sighed against the burning skin. “But I don’t mind. It’s cute.”

An outraged groan answered him and he startled when he felt teeth biting against his ear as payback. That clearly didn’t stop him, still working on the bruises he was sucking against his rival’s neck – who wasn’t really struggling anymore, his attention probably focused on repressing the broken sounds that were begging to escape his throat.

Akira finally released the skin with a deep sucking sound and found himself almost breathless. Under him, Akechi was still glaring at him but the red blush on his cheeks was telling a whole other story. That, the little bit of sweat that made his defined collarbones shine, and the red marks blooming on his skin, made him look so beautiful Akira let out an actual groan, pushing his forehead against Akechi’s.

He shivered when he felt hot breath over his face as well as the way the reddish eyes softened a little with his movement. He licked his lips, his hands finally releasing Akechi’s collar so he could bury them in the wonderfully soft hazel hair, pulling them away from his rival’s face. That made Akechi close his eyes with a little whimper, and the next thing he knew, hands were sliding against his ribs, catching his uniform’s jacket and pulling him right back against his open mouth.

Akira felt a little bit dizzy now that Akechi was actually kissing him back. He honestly couldn’t tell when he’d started to want this, but none of his fantasies would’ve held up to this. It wasn’t like he had no experience either, but there was something indescribable about Akechi Goro relaxing in his arms, lowering his jaw and turning his head to get better access to his tongue. He’d imagined it would be a little bit harsh, full of bite, and sure, Akechi wasn’t one to easily give up control – but this? More than fierce, it actually felt desperate. Like Akechi had also been waiting for this, like he’d also completely lost track of where he was, how many people were still in the building – just because he needed to kiss him  _ right now _ .

Akira’s chest was shaking as he gasped for air before diving back into the kiss, his glasses going askew when Akechi went to cup his cheeks. He caught the jacket’s zipper and quickly brought it down to sneak his hand underneath, right along Akechi’s ribs and waist, making him shudder. “Akira…” he whispered, lips red and shiny, letting out a whine when another biting kiss was stolen from him.

“Yeah?” he whispered against his jaw.

“Where… is this going?”

Akira actually let out a little laugh, his hand still exploring Akechi’s chest, silently enjoying the feeling of toned muscles underneath. “Well… I got a few ideas.”

“We’re still at school.”

He shrugged, lowering his mouth so it was back against his rival’s neck and finally slipping his fingers under the white t-shirt Akechi was wearing. “Classes are over, there’s just clubs around.”

“This is the infirmary,” he replied. “Someone could come in anytime.”

“This is  _ Maruki’s _ office, and he’s clearly not gonna bother us right now. No one will come.”

That seemed to be the end of Akechi’s patience because he caught his jaw between his fingers, glared at him, and finally said : “Just go lock the fucking door, okay?”

Akira looked probably too enthusiastic, immediately releasing him and almost running to the door. The lock clicked and he let out a satisfied sigh, then he heard rattling sounds of drawers being pulled open. Akechi was looking for something and when he finally got it, he turned around and threw it in Akira’s direction.

He caught it in the air and his eyes opened so wide they almost hurt, his heartbeat going crazy. Those were foil packets, lube and condoms. He looked up to see Akechi was giving him some kind of shit-eating grin, arms crossed over his open jacket and his little ass sitting right on the desk.

“What?” he scoffed. “First time using those?”

Akira felt heat going right through him, not only arousal but also sheer determination. He was definitely going to wipe out that satisfied smile. Prove Akechi Goro that he wasn’t all show, and that he could give him exactly what he wanted. He slowly walked towards him, taking off his glasses in a gesture that was maybe a little too close to him removing his mask in the metaverse – sliding them into his pocket and stopping right in front of the other man.

With one hand he pushed lightly against his chest, encouraging the detective to sit back a little, and then gripping a knee to pull his legs open. Akechi didn’t react, still watching him like the little judgemental shit he was, waiting to see his next move. And oh, he was absolutely going to blow his mind. 

_ It’s showtime. _

Akira fell to his knees, bringing the tracksuit down with him. That earned him a jolt followed by a deep gasp when he brought his lips against Akechi’s thighs, softly kissing him and feasting over their pale, milky color. His tongue traced defined quads, nurtured by cycling, bouldering and jumping over shadows to slice their throat. Another day, he would’ve loved being suffocated between them, nose burrowed in the skin until he felt dizzy. Today, however, he only wanted to make them as red as the Shujin sports uniform.

He bit down, hard, making Akechi twitch, while Akira’s hands were softly stroking the back of his thighs. He then kissed the skin softly, as if to apologize, placing a few more love bites on the skin, higher and higher until he was just shy of his boxers. Finally, he raised his eyes, catching Akechi’s. He was all red and yet he kept watching him intently, pupils blown and mouth slightly open. Akira slid his thumbs under the boxers, and then his nose right against his crotch. Akechi’s eyes widened.

He let out his most debauched moan when Akira started mouthing against his dick, right through the dark fabric. Feeling the detective harden right against his mouth was extremely empowering, and made him bold enough to grab his cheeks and squeeze. Sure, Akechi jerked right against him and was probably silently wishing for his death but the sounds he made were totally worth it.

He could feel his hair getting pulled probably to bring him back up, but Akira was already pulling his underwear and sucking bruises around his pelvis. His hips were twitching every time he let his tongue touch the thin skin and finally, a hand buried itself in his locks but kept him there with a shaky moan. Akechi had now his head thrown back, not even looking at him, just grasping his locks and waiting. He almost wanted to call him a good boy but he knew that would break the moment, so he finally lowered the boxers until they hung low on the detective’s knees, fully exposing him to artificial light as well as his avid eyes.

He couldn’t help but bite his lips to refrain a moan. Akechi’s dick wasn’t very big or impressive, but the simple sight of him exposed from his lower abdomen to his knees, red dusting his cheeks and hair sticking in unusual directions – was breathtaking. He wanted to imprint this moment right into his memory, keep it forever and treasure it.

It was unreal. He’d been crushing for months, shamefully touching himself when Morgana was sleeping soundly. And yet he never asked him out. Everything that came afterwards didn’t change anything either. Even in the deep of culpability and devastating regrets, he still thought about the detective, silently wishing he’d done things differently. Wishing he’d had at least one occasion to make things work, maybe just talk to him, maybe change his mind, maybe even save him.

And here he was now. Alive and aroused right under his eyes, open for him, waiting for his next move. It was exhilarating. It was painful. It was everything he’d ever wanted. Akira finally closed his eyes and swallowed down his cock.

The muffled sounds were like candy to his ears, the feeling of trembling skin against his fingertips too. Akechi seemed to not know what to do with his hands and legs anymore, shuffling on the desk with every spark running across his body. Akira even made him lay back, his hand on his abs pushing him softly while he sucked on his cockhead before going down right to the hilt.

Two hands now clenched in his unruly black hair, Akira just fell into a lazy rhythm, savoring the feeling and taste of Akechi in his mouth and throat. It was perfect, even when he could feel himself gag a little bit, the sounds that followed from the older boy were going straight to his dick, throbbing in his pants. He bottomed out, nose against rough hair and spit rolling down his jaw. He took a deep breath for his nose, not even moving, just swallowing around the shaft and feeling his thighs jump under his hands.

He let the cock slide out of his mouth with a deep suck that resonated in the room, the noise downright lewd when it was followed by the wet slap of the erection falling against Akechi’s lower belly. He immediately took the cock in hand and started stroking it slowly, tongue flat against the head, descending upon the shaft until it brushed his balls. He kept playing with them, sucking one in and out of his mouth while his closed hand was stroking up, tight against the tip, his thumb playing with the leaking slit.

This is what made Akechi moan for real. A long, drawn-out whine that came from deep within his chest and was followed by high whimpers. His breath caught in his throat and Akira just accelerated his strokes, making them tighter, harsher. He wasn’t even playing with his balls anymore, fascinated with the sight before him, of shivers and jumping hips while his hand went up, and down, and up, and down… Only the sudden call of his name made him jump out of his trance.

“A-Akira… stop, I’m gonna– _ ah _ …” He swallowed another whimper. “Not like this…”

“Tell me what you want,” he whispered, lips against the shaft and very close to going down his cock again and again, because really, at this point, he didn’t care much for his own dick if he could see Akechi cum like this. However, his next words really made him reconsider it.

Using one elbow to straighten up a little and catch his gaze, Akechi pulled at his hair and forced him away from his weeping dick. He was almost scowling but the wet eyes and burning cheeks didn’t fool anyone. Especially when he said : “I want you inside…” His eyes briefly closed when Akira's hand, shaken up by the words, squeezed hard against him. “Why do you think I gave you condoms and lube, huh?”

Akira jumped on his feet, grabbing Akechi by the collar and forcing him to make a few awkward steps until he fell on his naked butt, right on the infirmary bed. He didn’t have time to say much because Akira, as soon as he’d closed the curtains around them, climbed above him and pushed on his shoulders until he was on his back once again. He even went back to devouring his lips, hands deftly removing the annoying underwear and pants so he could comfortably sit between the detective’s legs.

Akechi moaned in the kiss, softly biting his lower lip and brushing his tongue against his. He even crossed his arms behind his neck, securing him right against his torso, like he didn’t want Akira to escape. It felt intimate, dare he say tender. Still, that didn’t stop him from covering his fingers in lube and slowly pushing them in between the detective’s legs.

He went slowly, because while Akechi may or may not have a thing for pain, Akira clearly wasn’t comfortable with this kind of play, especially without talking about it first. That’s why he thoroughly opened him up, using so much lube it was dripping on the sheets. Akechi wasn’t that tight so he could guess he was used to it but he didn’t really want to ask him anything about it. Not right now, not when his tongue was about to make him lose his mind.

Finally, they pulled their mouth away with a loud resonating smack so Akira could put a condom on. Akechi even started pulling at his uniform, getting rid of his blazer and turtleneck and then helping him get his pants down. He was about to remove his remaining clothes when Akira grabbed his hand to stop him.

“Wait,” he said. “Keep it on.”

“You mean the jacket?”

“Yeah… Please.”

Akechi blinked a little but didn’t comment, simply laying down again and spreading his legs so Akira could get back between them. He sat on his knees and lifted his rival’s hips a little, admiring the sight once more, this time of Akechi half naked, hard on his lap. He threw him a little glance before anything else, though, asking for his final permission. Akechi rolled his eyes and muttered : “Stop making me wait.”

That was enough for him. Akira took himself in hand and slowly pushed inside. He took his time, a little bit scared of blowing his load before bottoming out. At least, Akechi didn’t show any sign of discomfort, his eyes closed and his mouth open with every sigh of pleasure. It’s only when his balls finally pushed against the curve of his ass that Akechi let out a drawling “yes”.

That made him clench his hands, and jaw, and everything else, his whole mind focused on the tight and wet feeling and the screaming voice that told him to not come, not right now. And it wasn’t easy when you were inside Akechi Goro, who was arching his back, letting out groans of pleasure and just unabashedly having the time of life.  He didn’t even think, he let go of the thighs in his hands so he could brace his arms around Akechi’s head and bury his own in the curve of his neck. He could feel it spinning with arousal, from the embrace, from the sounds, from the taste of Akechi’s sweat, the brush of his hair against his cheeks.

He was breathless now that he was inside him, because he was unable to escape. He was his. His entire body and heart and soul were Akechi Goro’s. He was a Phantom Thief and yet he was ready to get stolen away. They weren’t even in the best place, it could’ve been a hundred times better in his own room, or at Akechi’s, hell even a love hotel would’ve been better than Shujin and its shitty infirmary. And yet here they were, fucking after school like the horny teenagers that they were and he wouldn’t have it any other way.

He finally moved, feeling his lower belly shake and burn with the first thrust, but the next ones were almost soothing, subduing the flames licking him from inside. Akechi was grabbing him close, breathing into his ears, gasps muffled against his head. He lifted his hips a little and tried to slam harder, just to hear more, just to feel Akechi tighten around him.

However, that wasn’t enough for the detective. He put his legs around his, and told him to go faster, to give him more, still unsatisfied. He let out a feral groan and pulled on Akira’s curls so he could glare at him. “Are you gonna fuck me, or not!?”

“Hey, just let me do my thing, ok? Stop bitching and maybe that’ll feel better.”

“I’m not saying it’s bad, asshole, but we don’t have the whole day. Just stop holding back, Joker.” The nickname made him shiver, sweat rolling down his spine. “You’re not gonna hurt me, nor my feelings,” he whispered furiously against his lips, pupils blown and cheeks so red they looked burnt. “I’m fine with everything. Cum inside me, or on my thighs, my ass, my face – I don’t fucking care. Just do it and don’t  _ ask _ .”

His mouth felt dry, his heartbeat ridiculously loud. Akechi released him and just opened his legs wider, one hand lowering to his erection, the other sliding under the t-shirt and coming to play with one of his nipples. He’d just asked him to fuck him into submission and yet he still had that smartass grin, like Akira was just his puppet.

He gulped down and pulled out, holding his dick and squeezing around the hilt. Akechi lifted an eyebrow, now looking at least a little bit interested, and Akira grunted : “Turn around.”

The detective slowly blinked. And then smirked. “Make me.”

He let out a small chuckle and grabbed the detective’s knees to push them on the side, and then pull him up by the waist so he’d finally have a good look at his ass. Under him, Akechi was still looking extremely smug, head turned on the pillow so he could watch Akira push inside again. He had brought a thumb to his mouth, lightly biting on the nail when he started getting fucked again.

Akira was completely hopeless, sweat dripping because everything about Akechi was just  _ that _ hot. His eyebrows slightly furrowed on a deep thrust, a sweet moan when his forgotten erection brushed against the bed, his hand back under his t-shirt to play with his nipples. He’d always been wet dream material, but Akira wasn’t ready for this. And that asshole knew what he was doing too. He was enjoying the pounding just as much as he enjoyed seeing his rival giving into his urges and thus to him.

What a prick. Akira loved him so much.

He completely threw his common sense through the window and started pounding until he could hear the smacking sound across the room. The curtains around the bed weren’t even necessary anymore, anyone sticking their ear against the door would’ve known what they were doing. Akira was just holding Akechi’s hips and fucking him on his dick, the bed creaking with every thrust and the detective’s moans rising in volume.

Akira let out a groan at some point, his voice wheezy with exertion : “You’re too loud…” Akechi’s eyes rolled when he punctuated the statement with some deep thrusts, like he was trying to fuck his voice out of him. He didn’t even think as he lowered his body until his chest was flushed against the detective’s back, plush asscheeks pushing against his pelvis – so he could grab the hem of the t-shirt and pull it up. “Bite on it,” he said, and Akechi actually followed his order with a long pained whine.

He was now head down, face against the mattress and the rough blanket. The jacket had fallen from his shoulders when he’d gotten turned around but it was still pooling around his elbows, hands clenched on the sleeves. At least it gave Akira the perfect opportunity to brush away hazel locks and bite down his sweaty neck. Akechi almost released the cloth between his teeth, a shiver racing through his whole body.

They were both getting close but Akira wanted Akechi to come first, on his dick. He sneaked his hand down his chest, teased his nipples, and finally closed around the weeping erection. A full-body startle raked through his rival’s body, who let out a sound that seemed very close to his name. He sucked even harder on his neck before whispering right against his ear : “You’re gonna come in my hand? You’re gonna give it to me?”

“Y-Yes,” he stammered, finally letting go of his shirt. “Keep going…”

He could feel his own orgasm coming, heat making his insides throb and every thrust lightning spark against the most sensitive parts of his dick. He could feel Akechi tightening against him too, and his thumb went to rub against his glans while his other hand pinched a hard nipple.

Akechi’s voice turned raspy when he came, hips twitching and eyes tightly closed. He even clenched his jaw, as if he came so hard it was painful, and when the last spray of come escaped him his face totally relaxed, mouth open to let out a high little whimper.

Akira was so entranced by the sight he didn’t care about his own dick, he immediately pulled out so he could turn Akechi around and kiss him. The detective had gone limp, lazily opening his mouth and sticking out his tongue to brush against his, more whimpers escaping him when Akira went back to fucking him, rolling his hips to a desperate rhythm just to hear more of those fucked-out sounds.  His clean hand went to hold Akechi’s neck, brushing his cheek with his thumb while he kept enthusiastically kissing him, the wet sounds turning his brain to mush. Akechi was barely holding on to him, doing nothing except moan and turn his head to get kissed deeper, hips twitching with overstimulation as Akira kept rutting into him.

However, he finally realized he was going too far and came to a slow stop, noticing the way Akechi was starting to frown. He really was just about to blow his load, but even if Akechi had told him to stop asking, he still couldn’t help but do exactly that : “Where do you want me to come…?”

Akechi blinked slowly, like he was also finally coming back to his senses. He glanced lower at their joined bodies, and then to Akira’s other hand, the one that one rubbing soothing circles against the base of his skull. He decided to grab Akira’s wrist and brought his soiled fingers to his lips, licking along his palm, before looking at him right in the eyes. “On my face.”

Akira almost came right there, without even moving. He watched with wide eyes as Akechi finished cleaning him up without a care in the world, as if it wasn’t his own spend he was swallowing, and when he finished his work he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and chuckled. “Or what? You really want to mess up my insides? I guess that’s fair. I didn’t really have time to see your dick though, you’re too scared to show it?”

He pulled out, earning an amused sneer from his rival who released his shoulders and let him kneel right above his chest. Akechi watched him remove the condom, not saying anything when he did get a good look at his cock, the tip so dark it was almost purple, the bushy dark hair and round little balls clenching hard with every stroke.

It didn’t take long for Akira to come. Akechi was just too pretty, fucked out and grinning and red-faced, red bites on his skin, red like his stolen jacket – red, red,  _ red _ … He felt his breath get deeper when Akechi licked his swollen lips, his balls jumped when he saw the wet trail near his eyes, his heart clenched when he just closed his eyelids, waiting.

The detective startled a little bit when he felt the first spurt hit his skin, right on his cheek. The next one actually spilled across the bridge of his nose, then across his agape mouth. He opened wider so he could catch the rest, and Akira stuttered on a moan as his hand started stroking even faster, harder.

His legs gave up with his last stroke, and he slowly sat on Akechi’s chest. The detective wasn’t moving, his eyes closed and his mouth still open, as if he was savoring the moment. Finally, he closed his lips and licked them clean, rolling his tongue around before swallowing with a little grunt. When he opened his eyes, he glanced at Akira’s cock who was softening against the his thigh, and chuckled. He didn’t say anything, though.

It was only once his face was clean, his pants back on his hips and Akira’s cock inside his underwear that Akechi talked again. It was a murmur, something he probably didn’t even mean for him to hear : “Your head really is broken somewhere.”

Akira raised an eyebrow, his glasses back on his nose, and he sat on the bed with one hand next to Akechi’s head. The other one lightly brushed against the detective’s cheek as he teased back : “A bullet in the brain will do that, yeah.”

Akechi huffed a laugh, rolling his eyes, but he didn’t move. When Akira lowered himself until their lips were just a breath away, he didn’t push him back. He waited, his eyelids low and maybe even curiosity lightening up his eyes. Akira whispered against his mouth :  “Hey, Akechi. Why did you keep my tracksuit?”

A pregnant silence stretched between them. Akechi narrowed his eyes at him until finally he raised his chin, just a tiny bit, and answered with a quiet voice : “Why did you keep my glove?”

Akira’s eyes widened, his heart stopping for a second. Akechi, however, was patient. He looked satisfied too. He swallowed before talking, crossing fingers his voice wouldn’t shake. “What do you mean?”

“I found it in your pocket when I was undressing you.”

“That’s very bad manners, sir,” he chuckled lightly, finally moving back a little, just to breathe better.

“By now you should know I’m anything but pleasant,” Akechi deadpanned. “So? Tell me why.”

“That’s not how it works. I asked first.”

“And you can’t force me to answer.”

Akira hated giving up, especially when it concerned his and Akechi’s mind games. However, this time, he felt like he should just drop it. He was asking something he kind of knew the answer to. That wasn’t fair. And he was right, if he didn’t want to talk about the glove, the month of tears and grief, well Akechi was allowed to keep silent too.

He stood up and opened the curtains around the bed, brushing away non-existent dirt from his uniform. Akechi followed quickly, but he let out a little disgusted sound. “Shit, my shirt is all sticky. And I think there’s cum smeared inside the jacket.”

“It’s okay. You can keep it anyway. It’s yours now.” Akechi threw him a glare, and he quickly added : “Or you can just give it back another time. At this point, I guess that won’t change much.”

“Oh yeah sure, why don’t I give you back your dirty tracksuit before raiding Maruki’s palace, right when everyone is there. You’ve got any more brilliant ideas, leader?”

Akira shook his head with fond exasperation, because Akechi was back to his normal self, condescending tone and underlying insults included.

“Or you can just wait for the day everything is over. How about that? As a way to settle everything. My tracksuit…” He threw him a sideway smile. “And your glove.”

Akechi took a while to answer, his look somber and his eyebrows a little bit furrowed. He looked annoyed, but also, maybe, a little bit guilty. Akira didn’t have time to react, Akechi swiftly went back to his usual self, zipping up his jacket and walking for the door. He turned the lock and said, “Alright. When everything’s said and done, I’ll give it back. See you tomorrow.”

He closed the door behind him, leaving Akira alone in the infirmary. He didn’t move for a few minutes, still processing all that had just happened in less than thirty minutes. He had kissed Akechi Goro. He blew him. Fucked him. Came on his face. And kissed him again, like you would kiss a lover. That was pretty surreal.

For a second, he thought about telling someone, but Morgana wouldn’t get it, Ryuji would probably say TMI, Ann would be  _ way _ too invested, and no way in hell was he telling Futaba, she might start looking at his internet history and favorite porn keywords and he definitely didn’t need that.

Akira sighed and just went through the door, shaking his head. He might as well wait to see where this was going, he decided. He clearly didn’t want this to be a one time thing, but he’d have to ask the other party first. Still, he had good hopes. Akechi had kept his tracksuit, that meant something, he knew he wasn’t wrong.

Just wait until everything is over, he convinced himself. This month will fly by anyway.

* * *

On February the 2nd, Akira watched Akechi walk through a door and disappear once again. He stayed frozen in place, still staring at the spot where Akechi had been, just seconds ago. The spot he’d been standing on, as he told him to stop pitying him. As he glared at him and showed disgust at the idea of Akira throwing his freedom away for him. As he told him he didn’t even want to be there. That he was going against his wishes. That it had nothing to do with him.

Wind made the windows shake, and Akira started running for the door. He couldn’t let him get away again. Not now that he knew he’d been lied to. There would be no  _ day after _ , and Akechi knew that. It was so unfair, he shouted inside his mind. He had so much he still wanted to say. He had so much inside him, that he’d been patiently waiting to share, for a better day.

He opened the door and his voice escaped him with a cry :  “Akechi–!”

It died in his chest. Right next to the door, fluttering softly with the breeze, was a paper bag. Akira frowned softly and bent over to check inside, stomach clenched with fear. His hand froze.

Red and white clothes. His tracksuit. Clean, folded at the bottom of the bag. And nothing else.

No letter. No promise. No words. Just his clothes, sitting there, waiting for him.

Akira felt a sob wreck his chest and one of his knees touched the ground. His fist tight against his face, he tried to repress more cries as he felt his eyes swelling with tears. They immediately started rolling down his cheeks, fat and heavy, choking him and making his shoulders jump.

His other hand, inside his pocket, held tight on a leather glove.

**FIN**

**Author's Note:**

> I was just replaying third semester and seeing Akechi in the Shujin tracksuit was a little bit too hot. So I wrote this. And hey look it became sad I don't know what happened. I swear it's not me, the video game made me do it.
> 
> Anyway, I hope you enjoyed Akechi getting railed while still mysteriously being dominant. I think this dynamic suits him very well, though I really really want to write something where he completely gives up control. But at this point in their relationship yeah, I don't think Akechi would be ready for this.
> 
> You can find me on twitter [@Papy1412](https://twitter.com/Papy1412)
> 
> See you!!


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